Perfection Walking
by Elluxion
Summary: Narcissa and Lucius take a walk in the woods beneath the moonlight, and question what, exactly, binds them together.


**Perfection Walking   
One-Shot Fanfic   
Written by Elluxion**

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I was just playing around with words. This came out as a poem originally until I manipulated it into a story. =D It's a Lucius/Narcissa, in case anyone's guessing, though it can pass for an original story. Yeap. That's bout it, I suppose. Oh, and it's really short -- so I'd love reviews. Thanks!! 

Happy Valentine's Day, and hugest apologies for poofing for so long -- ever since September 03. =| 

Hugs,  
Elluxion 

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**Title: ** Perfection Walking 

**Written by: **Elluxion 

**Date: ** 14 February 04 

**Genre: ** Mystery 

**Shippings: ** Narcissa/Lucius 

**Summary: ** Narcissa and Lucius take a walk in the woods beneath the moonlight, and question what, exactly, binds them together. 

**Notes: ** Nothing much in particular, only that I'd really like reviews. ^^ 

Onwards! Onegai, review! 

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"What is love?" 

The moon, shimmering through a raggedy beggar's veil of cloud. She reigned supreme on that night; she always did, on the nights they ventured out together. She dipped her skirts in the palette of their story and daubed careless streaks of it in the sky. Sometimes she raged, glacial fury, emanating ice, and it was during those times when his love was unsettled and agitated. But most of the time the moon nodded and gave them a beautifully familiar smile, content to lounge in the velvet drapes of the evening sky, easily outshining the stars -- her other guttering celestial companions. Tonight she held her breath, waiting for an answer. 

"I don't know." A breath. Dislike at the absence of knowledge. Interest as the question seeps in; a quick glance directed at her. Quietly. "It doesn't exist." 

Carelessly, "It doesn't?" 

The leaves pawed at the air like skittish kittens batting at yarnballs, capturing breathless beauty that an artist would have given all to freeze. The air tasted like frosted sugar, kissing flesh and eyelashes with gentle insistency. The very essence of the forest hummed with low sibilance. The clouds drew themselves taut around the moon. She cast them aside imperiously, milky locks of her hair twined around the bare branches spreading their fingers to the winter sky, pleading for unattainable freedom. 

Silence. Then the lingering aftertaste of a question. "What, then, do you feel for me?" 

The answer was puzzling, but not unexpectedly so. Expected. Paradox, mystery, contradictions. Everything. "I feel for you love." 

"You are absurd." An impudent toss of head like a restless mare. "But tell me why you love me." 

A dramatic pose for him beneath the smiling illumination. Honeyed hair falling thickly, sensuously; a touch would make silk seem rough in comparison. Curls licking teasingly at her cheeks, messy and windblown in the tentabcles of fog. Blue eyes smoky in their cherubic innocence. An arched back, an uplifted chin. Skin baby-smoth, fair and cold and fresh with youth. Shoulders thrown back, coiled muscles stretching with svelte, catlike power. The unattainable fruit. The thorned rose. The claw-sheathed lioness. The temptress of flawlessness. If they could, the stars themselves would have wept for her beauty that night. 

"I love you because you belong to me." Heartbreakingly firm resolution and conviction. Eyes fixed on her own. "Because you are perfection walking." 

Amused laughter, startling a nightingale from the shrubbery, halting its song so all they heard was their hearts beating in the same tattoo. Watching as the winged form lifted and soared away into the backdrop of diamonds and shadows. A flick of her locks so they released their grip on the falling tree blossoms caught in her hair. Blue eyes darkening to faceted sapphires. A hand running half-forgotten over her own face, almost wonderingly, as if knowing her features for the first time. Coy lashes. Poised cheekbones, tilted eyes. Lips to offer a goddess's kiss. 

"I belong to no one." 

Her hands cupped his face; hands to offer a goddess's touch. 

Later they lay coupled together underneath the trees they haunted. A smile without warmth. Eyes without warmth. The glint of cold murder in the gloom. The knife-hilt reassuring in her fingers. The blade was bitter and revengeful, but his screams would be sweet. The wait had been long -- 

"I love you," he told her. 

Faltering. Shock. She never faltered, never hesitated, a lazy serpent in the sun until it uncoiled and sprang at you. She was trained to obey orders. She was to obey them now. 

A light kiss on her eyelids, like a butterfly's satin wing brushing her gently. 

Fingers tightening till knuckles bleached, then the sudden loosening of the hilt like the last autumn leaf's release from the brown-tipped branches. The knife falling away into darkness, forgotten. The bittersweet tang of failure quickly lost in the euphoric, dizzying cocktail of love. 

Love returned. 

Perfection walking. 

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End file.
